


You were so cynical the last time that I saw you

by Versolite



Series: A Rawson canvas [7]
Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: Brotherhood, Brothers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 04:56:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29620953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Versolite/pseuds/Versolite
Summary: "They aren’t at Crow Nest, surrounded by distant family members ready to expose whatever compromising thing they can find about them. They aren’t in the streets either, nor at the Listers’. They are sitting on both sides of a table buried under dozens of papers, contracts and objects. It’s their resting place, the only room they are at peace, and it’s in the central bank of Halifax."
Relationships: Christopher Rawson (1777-1849) & Jeremiah Rawson (1787-1839)
Series: A Rawson canvas [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931890
Kudos: 3





	You were so cynical the last time that I saw you

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [La pièce rapportée](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29620848) by [Versolite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Versolite/pseuds/Versolite). 



Christopher appears to be in a bad mood, this evening.

Not the kind of mood leading him to crush everything in his path – everything, women and children as well, God protect them. In fact, Jeremiah doubts his brother would even be able to find a good way to harass the Listers today. He took a step forward from that; simply bored of these shenanigans. Simply turning around in his cage, enraged because of his own idleness.

The younger one pensively smokes, staying silent for now. This is the most he can do right now without risking any kind of outburst from his brother. It’s the risk of getting yourself in a beast’s lair.

It is odd. He doesn’t feel frightened at all, tonight. Maybe it’s because he heard the discussion between Mother and Catherine earlier, and because he saw this strange look on Christopher’s face. The older one quickly turned it into disdain, but he can’t deceive Jeremiah. This is the kind of things he cannot hide from him; he looked almost aggrieved. Somehow, the two women must have talked about a sensitive subject. It’s a tricky issue, considering Jeremiah can’t figure what might have possibly unnerved his brother. They weren’t talking about Anne Lister or Ann Walker, they didn’t allude to any kind of crime, not even to some town affairs. There’s really nothing he can put his finger on.

« Why are you staring at me like this? »

Jeremiah nervously clutches his fingers around his cigaret. He was too lost in his thoughts to pay attention to what his glare was aiming at; but he slowly regain his composure, as it is a good occasion to discuss the matter:

« I feel like you’re tensed. Did something happen? »

The older one raises his eyebrows. He looks genuinely surprised; it makes a weird impression on Jeremiah. He himself feels way more confident than usual, as if he was in his comfort zone. After all, it is almost the case: they aren’t at Crow Nest, surrounded by distant family members ready to expose whatever compromising thing they can find about them. They aren’t in the streets either, nor at the Listers’. They are sitting on both sides of a table buried under dozens of papers, contracts and objects. It’s their resting place, the only room they are at peace, and it’s in the central bank of Halifax. Here, they can talk about anything and be frank without being afraid of eavesdroppers. If Christopher probably couldn’t care less, used as he is to speak his mind in any circumstance, Jeremiah is way more at ease here.

It is here that his brother suggested him to steal Anne Lister’s coal. It is here that they argued and reconciled dozens of time. It is also here that he took a drink he shouldn’t have taken… but this latter experiment is not a memory Jeremiah is fond of.

When he sees his brother grab his glass of brandy to pull himself together, Jeremiah continues, putting out his cigaret with a brief turn of his wrist « Come on, you’re not going to avoid the subject, are you? You know you can tell me everything. What happened?

\- Nothing of importance » Christopher gruntles.

Jeremiah waits. Just a few more seconds; if his brother stays silent, it will mean he really doesn’t want to talk about it. But otherwise…

« Do you feel like Mother is proud of us? » Christopher suddenly asks.

« What do you mean ?

\- The question is self-explanatory.

\- I mean… We’ve made quite a few blameworthy decisions, don’t you think? I doubt she really can-

\- This is none of her business, nor something she’s aware of. We made sure of that, she can’t possibly know. So I’m asking you again: do you feel like she is proud of us, or not? »

He has some kind of firm tone, and his eyes are so much focusing on Jeremiah’s that they are getting wet. The younger realizes quickly enough that Christopher won’t let himself be fooled by a nice lie. Judging by the way he glares at him, judging by his cold anger expression, he wants the truth. Jeremiah clears his throat:

« - Well, she is proud of the place you found. And she is proud of my marriage. Of course she has been proud of us, at least at some point.

\- So why is she going on and on again about Anne Lister? Why does she prefer these… _idiots_ ’ company to ours? The way she talked to them… Aren’t _we_ worth the same treatment?

\- Don’t be absurd. We are not at the point to argue with people for her affection anymore.

\- It’s easy to say for you!

Christopher abruptly stands up. Just this once, Jeremiah doesn’t step back; and for good reason, since his brother simply starts to pace in the room, his hands in his pockets. The situation is simply too puzzling for Jeremiah to know how to react properly. As he opens his mouth, trying to figure how he could apologize for God knows what again, his brother interrupts him:

« As soon as you were born, they forgot about me. All of them. They forgot my existence for the rest of my life. Whatever I’m doing simply doesn’t count. But I can buy that. I can buy that she is curious about our family. But _Anne Lister…_ »

He has some kind of rage spasm. Jeremiah hesitantly gets up.

« Christopher…?

\- She isn’t even inserted among us… Oh, not that she _doesn’t want to_ , but I won’t let her.

\- Of course not.

\- She will not be one of us, alright?! I refuse! I never did anything wrong, I- _They never loved me!_

\- Christopher, d-don’t say that, of course they-

\- Really? Can you remember a single time she showed interest in us? In _me_? As much interest as towards this _woman_? Or towards Catherine or one of our stupid cousins? »

Suddenly, everything makes sense. Jeremiah crosses his arms. This is the kind of thoughts the conversation between Mother and Catherine they overheard actually invoked.

« I… I don’t think so » he confesses.

« That’s precisely what bothers me. » his brother sarcastically replies

« I’m… I’m sorry, Christopher. I didn’t know it made you upset. »

His brother gives him a bitter glare. The expression doesn’t target him; that is what he understands as a forced smile appears on his lips.

« It’s not your fault. Come on, we should head back to work, now. »

Jeremiah nods, his eyes on the floor. He briefly lift his stare, as his brother turns his back on him.

He’s certain he saw him wipe his tears.


End file.
